Drabblicious
by Dahlia J Black
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for the Fandom Gives Back charity auction and other special occasions. A random mix of characters and pairings. Expect anything. Rated M for various reasons.
1. Ridiculous

**A/N: **This is a collection of drabbles written for the Fandom Gives Back charity auction.

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**For terrycornwell**

**Prompt:** Ridiculous

**Characters:** Edward/Jasper

**Disclaimer: All copyrighted and trademarked items mentioned herein are the property of their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

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Jasper Whitlock stands in the locked bathroom trying to catch a glimpse of himself in the small mirror above the basin. Raising himself up onto the tips of his toes proves to be fruitless, so he scrambles backwards and manages to balance himself on the edge of the bath. The parts of himself that he can see are scaring him.

_The things I do for love,_ he thinks to himself.

"Please don't tell me your chickening out," Edwards voice appears from the other side of the door. "You promised."

"Remind me again how you got me to agree to this?" Jasper whines, tugging at the belt loops of his too-tight jeans.

"There may have been alcohol involved." Jasper can hear the smile in Edward's voice and he can feel his resolve wavering.

"Right." Jasper drags his hand through his normally curly hair, which has been straightened for the occasion.

"I may have promised some inappropriate touching, too," Edward says, casually.

"That would've done the trick," Jasper mumbles, remembering Edward's breath on his neck as he had confessed his fantasy to him. "I look ridiculous," he says, a little louder.

"I'm pretty sure you look sexy as hell." Edward has his face pressed against the door as he whispers his reassurances.

The husky rumble of Edward's voice is enough to finally drive Jasper from the bathroom. He turns the knob slowly and hears the carpet rustle as Edward takes a step back.

Jasper pauses when the door is slightly open. "You do realize that I love you too much?"

"I think you love me just enough," Edward replies, attempting humor but only accomplishing quiet desperation.

Jasper exaggerates a sigh and steps out of the bathroom.

Edward swallows heavily as he takes Jasper in: legs sheathed in tight black skinny jeans that cling to his long, lean legs and hang low on narrow hips; a black t-shirt that barely touches the top of his belt and seems to be melded to his understated, muscular chest. His straightened golden hair falls to his shoulders and his brilliant blue eyes are emphasized by dramatic black liner.

It's the most painfully erotic sight Edward has ever had the pleasure of beholding.

"I told you I look ridiculous," Jasper complains, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt and revealing a perfect patch of pale skin. "I know this is your fantasy, but I don't get it. These emo kids have never done anything for me."

"You're right." Edward's voice is strained. "You look ridiculous."

"Thank you," Jasper throws his hands dramatically in the air.

"Let me help you get rid of these silly tight jeans." Edward pulls roughly at Jasper's belt and smiles wickedly.

"Is this the part where the inappropriate touching starts?" Jasper asks hopefully, running his hands down the length of Edward's firm arms.

Edward's voice is muffled as he tries to speak, his lips already feverishly pressed to Jasper's.

"A promise is a promise."


	2. Tonight

For anyone who has read this drabble, I removed it because I expanded it for the Friday Free For All on Twilighted. The story will be up on Twilighted on 3 September and I'll repost as a one shot on FF a week later ;)


	3. Heart

**For Kay Cannon**

**Title: **Heart

**Note: **Wrote this the morning we left La Push and I was feeling Bella. Ending of Eclipse kind of timeline.

**Disclaimer: All copyrighted and trademarked items mentioned herein are the property of their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

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I try not to run as I head for my car. The sweet tang in the air greets my nostrils and seems to be purposefully mocking me because nothing could be more contradictory right now.

Something at the very core of me stubbornly wants it all to match: the tears streaming unapologetically down my face beg for rain instead of the smattering of sunlight that is glinting off them; the bile taste filling my mouth wants to be met with metal and brine but is met with fresh familiarity.

And I hate it, because nothing should feel familiar right now when I have never felt more alien in my own body.

I climb into my truck and turn the key, and as the suddenly annoying green leaves start to blur in my peripheral vision, I weep, because I'm leaving a throbbing chunk of my heart in La Push.


	4. End

**For Kay Cannon**

**Title: **End

**Note: **Inspired by the song "What If You" by Joshua Radin. Follow up to previous drabble.

**Disclaimer: All copyrighted and trademarked items mentioned herein are the property of their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

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The grass is damp under my feet and the winter air should chill my skin, but it folds redundantly around my heated body and seems to seep right into the core of me, extinguishing the last dying embers in my soul. As I sit down, I can't help but sigh.

"Jacob is outside." Edward's voice is a mere whisper, but he knows I can hear.

"Yes." Bella's simple reply is matter-of-fact. Her voice is thick with days worth of tears.

"You want me to go?" I'm surprised by Edward's gentle tone as he speaks, and even more surprised by his words.

I hear a gentle rustle that I assume to be Bella's affirming nod. "We need this. He's leaving."

"How did you...?" Edward trails off incredulously.

"I just know."

My heart feels like it's pulling apart in my chest. I didn't mean for it to be this hard. I just wanted to be near her one last time. Probably the last time ever I would be able to concentrate on the soothing familiarity of her heartbeat, the genuinely Bella scent that seems to silently cling to everything she touches.

I needed to know, for sure.

The sound of skin brushing against marble tells me that Edward is leaving. He uses the front door in a show of civility, and I'm thankful.

It's quiet for a while, save for the staggered breath that Bella draws.

I hurt because she hurts, and I don't know how to make it go away for either one of us.

Staying hurts.

Leaving hurts.

"I suppose you're not coming up." Bella speaks even though she knows she won't hear a reply. Maybe it's better that way. I don't have the strength left to talk either of us out of this.

"I'm glad you came," she continues, thoughtfully. "I was afraid you wouldn't. I just... It felt like we weren't done."

I fight the anger that rises in my chest - against this girl that seems to have been cut out of pieces of the same fabric I was. This girl that is perfect for me, but seems to be more perfect for someone else. I would laugh, but that kind of release could be catastrophic.

"I won't say anything else. Please just stay. I want to know that you're there."

I never could resist any of her requests. So I stay. I stay until the dawn. I know by her breathing that she didn't sleep. I also know that she has shed the last of her tears, because the daylight brings freedom.

For her.

Not from her.

Never from her.


	5. Give and Take

**A/N: **I wrote this little drabbleshot for **Chele681** for her birthday. She is my inspiration when it comes to deviant behaviour of any sort. I thank her for that.

**All copyright****ed**** and trademarked items mentioned herein ****are the property of**** their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

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**Give and Take

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I watched with barely contained primal lust as his sinuous back muscles rippled before me, his shoulder blades flexing in anticipation of what lay ahead of us. I knew he wanted it was much as I did, I could feel it radiating off his body. A singular bead of sweat rolled down his spine, enticing me, and I bent forward to catch it on my tongue. The salt seemed to bring all my senses to life.

"Say it," I growled, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders and positioning myself at his entrance.

"Fuck me." His whisper was strangled and pleading.

"Louder," I ordered, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling, causing his back to arch towards me.

"Fuck me _now_," he moaned, his voice desperate and wanting.

I couldn't resist a moment longer. I plunged into him in one swift motion, the sound of him screaming my name thrilling me to my very core.

"Baby."

"Yes," I moaned, driving deeper into him.

"Baby," he said, more insistently.

My eyes fluttered open and I was startled to see Jake above me instead of below me. It took me a few seconds to realize that the wonderful screaming and moaning had been nothing more than a powerfully erotic dream. I leaned back against my pillow with a disappointed groan.

"What was _that_, Rosie?" Jake asked with a look of saucy curiosity on his face.

"I had that dream again," I grumbled with a pout.

"That one where you're in a forest and the trees all turn into chocolate and M&M's rain down from the sky?" he joked innocently.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm going to stop telling you about my dreams if you're going to tease me about them all the time."

He nuzzled his face into my neck, grazing his lips across my skin. "I'm sorry, grumpy," came his muffled reply. "I'll be good."

"You've never been good a day in your life," I joked, pushing him off me playfully.

"I've only been bad since I met you," he retorted, pushing his hand up my pajama shirt and pinching my nipple playfully. "Now tell me what was making you go all porno in your sleep."

"I dreamt I was a guy."

"Ah, _that_ dream." He smiled knowingly.

"Yes, _that _dream." I had been having the same kind of dreams sporadically for about a month now, and they had been becoming progressively more graphic each time.

"Was I giving you a blowjob again?" he asked, a devilish grin plastered all over his face.

"Actually... I was taking you from behind." I closed my eyes sheepishly, hoping he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

"My, my, that is a new one." He started squeezing my breast lightly and kissed me deeply.

Every time I told Jake about one of my crazy dreams I braced myself for some kind of fallout, and every time he surprised me by encouraging me to tell him all the gory details. I was relieved that he seemed to be into this one as well.

"We both know I'm a gay boy on the inside," I explained between kisses.

"Which is one of the reasons why I love you so," he responded, letting his hand travel down my stomach and under the waistband of my boxer shorts. We kissed for a few more moments before I pulled away lightly.

"Tell me again why you'd rather be with a silly girl like me than any one of those hot boys you dated in the past?" I asked softly. It was my one and only insecurity when it came to my relationship with Jake. He had been with both guys and girls when he was younger, but eventually decided to settle down with me. Being as fond of the sight of two boys together as I was, I could never understand why he had turned his back on the boylove.

"Because _you_, silly girl, give better head than any of those boys," he responded, biting my lip teasingly.

I gasped indignantly, punching him lightly on the arm. "You did not just say that!"

"You're so easy to mess with," he laughed, enveloping me in his strong, familiar arms. "Another reason why I chose you."

"Be serious," I whined, angry at myself for letting my neuroticism overwhelm me.

"I am being serious." He kissed me softly on my forehead and looked at me as if he was trying to implant the idea into my brain. "Although I enjoyed being with guys, none of them made me feel remotely like you do. Like forever isn't long enough."

I rolled my eyes, but bit my tongue to keep from ruining the moment like I always did. "Tell me what it was like," I ventured.

"It got pretty intense sometimes. It's a very intimate thing to let someone have you that way." Jacob's honesty never ceased to amaze me. There wasn't a part of himself that he wouldn't share with me, of that I was sure.

"So, you were a... top?" I asked hesitantly, not wanting to assume too much. My boycurious ways had led me to some interesting online reading and viewing material. Not to mention watching Queer as Folk religiously for five seasons. I considered myself an enthusiast.

"I was more of a switch. I'm an equal opportunity deviant." His wicked grin melted me from the inside and I finally succumbed to his insistent kisses.

Days passed in which Jacob and I had some of the best sex of our relationship (and possibly our lives), and yet I still felt unsatisfied. I knew it had something to do with my repetitively dirty dreams, but I had no idea what to do with it. I knew Jake was feeding off my frustration, utilizing every trick in the book to get me off.

And I got off. Man, did I get off. But every climax left me begging for another. I felt no relief.

All of that changed when I arrived home one night after work to dimmed lights and an elaborately wrapped present awaiting me on the kitchen counter. I immediately panicked, thinking I had forgotten some kind of anniversary, but after a few moments of mental math I still hadn't figured it out.

"If I were you, I would read the card," I heard Jake stage whisper from the bedroom.

I chuckled and opened the heavy paper envelope to find a simple ivory note card with a message in Jake's familiar scrawl inside:

_Relationships are about give and take. Sometimes you can do both at once._

I frowned, turning back to the package and pulling on the chocolate brown silk ribbon to free. I lifted the lid of the box and pushed the masses of tissue paper aside . I gingerly freed the contents and stood examining the strange contraption for a few moments, until it finally dawned on me what it was, and what it could be used for.

I smiled, a silent thrill shooting up my spine. It had never occurred to me that it was actually possible to have Jake in the way I wanted him, much less that he would give it to me so willingly.

I walked to the bedroom, to my future husband, gift in hand, and realized with a smile that I had a whole forever of give and take to look forward to.


	6. Sunday Morning

**A/N: **This was written for **einfach mich** for her birthday. It's my first foray into femmeslash. I kinda liked it there…

**All copyright****ed**** and trademarked items mentioned herein ****are the property of**** their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

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**Sunday Morning

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I love Sunday mornings. Sometimes the thought of a Sunday morning is the only thing that keeps me from driving into oncoming traffic on a random depressing-as-fuck Thursday afternoon.

What I love even more than a Sunday morning is waking up next to a very naked Leah on a Sunday morning. I love it so much because it doesn't happen very often. Meaning, she doesn't allow it to happen very often. If we're at my place, she makes sure to leave the moment we're done fucking. No explanations, excuses or apologies - and most definitely no cuddling. If we're at her place, she doesn't hesitate to kick me out when she's done with me.

I should probably mind, but I don't, because being with her leaves me on such a euphoric high, and seeing her in the throes of passion - the only time she'll dare to let her guard down - is worth every blunt, sometimes downright mean remark she could throw at me.

But once in a while, when I'm least expecting it, she keeps her guard down. She lets me stay, lets me hold her and whisper in her ear how gorgeous she is to me, and how I can't live without her. She pretends to be sleeping, but I know she's listening to every word, because her breath always seems to still the moment before I tell her I love her.

Today is one of those exceptional Sunday mornings. I urged her to stay in bed with me last night, convincing her she was too drunk to go home, although we both knew she wasn't.

The sun is streaming through a tiny gap in the curtains, casting an almost celestial glow over her naked body. I can't stop looking at her: the way her nose crinkles when I know she's dreaming, the way her plump, pink lips are slightly parted and begging me to kiss them, the way her dark lashes rest on her bronze cheeks and her pitch black hair fans out around her head like a silken tapestry. Her long, graceful neck flows fluidly into strong but feminine shoulders. Her breasts are full and natural and her stomach is flat and taut. I let my eyes linger on the magical spot between her legs that's always wet for me, whether she wants it to be or not, and thighs which I always wish to have wrapped around my waist.

I have touched and tasted and explored every inch of her body in an attempt to make it mine - to make _her_ mine.

I know it never will be, but that doesn't keep me from trying.

I can't hold my want back anymore as I reach my hand out to gently brush over her cheek, which twitches beneath my touch. I drag my fingertips down and let them brush over her nipple, which immediately reacts to me. As always, I'm unable to resist its allure and I wrap my lips around it, loving the low growl that escapes her mouth. I know I've got her attention, although she isn't fully conscious yet. I push her onto her back and pull her other nipple into my mouth, causing her to arch into me. My fingers travel down further until I find what I'm looking for. She's already wet and ready for me.

I kiss a trail of sloppy kisses down her neck, between her breasts and finally settle in between her legs where I dip my tongue into her perfect, inviting pussy. This time I'm the one who groans, because she tastes even more amazing in the morning than she did the night before. Her hips buck up against my mouth in response to the vibration my moan has caused. I dig my hands into her ass, pulling her closer to me. She pulls her knees up to her sides, opening herself to me, granting me deeper access.

I oblige the silent request of her body by immediately pushing two fingers inside her. I firmly circle her clit as I curl my fingers inwards. I know what to do to make her squirm. She's moaning now, digging her hands into my hair, pushing me into her, demanding more. I always give her what she wants.

I flatten my tongue and stroke her vigorously, intensifying the thrust of my fingers at the same time. She lifts her feet to rest on my shoulders, angling her pussy up to me as her walls start to clench around me. I suck down hard on her clit as her release pulses through her, through me.

Her body slumps back against the bed and I slowly pull my fingers from her, placing one last soft kiss on her swollen lips before sucking the last bit of moisture from my fingers. I know I'll never possibly get enough of her.

I crawl back up to her and she rewards me with her familiar crooked smile.

"You sure know the best way to wake a girl up, Bells," she purrs.

I beam at her because I know, in this small window of opportunity, she's all mine.


	7. Invincible

**A/N: **This drabble was written for **juliebutterfly** who graciously purchased it in the _Fandom Gives Back_ charity auction. It's based on a picture prompt of a couple in Paris.

**All copyrighted and trademarked items mentioned herein are the property of their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

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**Invincible

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Angela Weber stood impatiently with folded arms, the unforgiving Parisian sun beating down on her bare shoulders, her irritation with her short-time boyfriend, Ben Bibaud, starting to intensify.

Angela of six months ago may have stood idly by and waited for the apparently oblivious man to finish texting whomever had caught his fancy this week, but Angela of right now wasn't having any of it. Angela of right now was dynamic and invincible. Half a year in the most romantic city in the world (which wasn't actually very romantic, but still quite beautiful, by the way) had turned Angela from an unimpressive black and white pencil sketch into a magnificent, vibrant portrait of strength and confidence.

Still, despite her immense growth from the demure, buttoned-up young woman who had arrived from small-town Washington to complete a year abroad at the Sorbonne University, Angela could tell by the stirring in the very depths of her soul that she was not entirely the person she was meant to be. Yet.

And that meant getting rid of Ben. Flip-flop wearing, man-purse toting, mustache-growing Ben had seemed very exciting and French through Angela's horn-rimmed spectacles. But through her brand new contact lenses, from behind her Christian Dior sunglasses, he appeared to be a little too unkempt, and a little too hairy, and _way_ too French.

Angela cleared her throat abruptly and watched as Ben slowly tore his gaze away from the tiny screen of his mobile phone. She quirked an expectant eyebrow at him. He answered with a blank stare.

Angela didn't need anything more than his empty gaze to know that she couldn't wait another minute to cut Ben loose.

"You know what," Angela began, uncharacteristically huffily, "I'm done."

"We 'aven't even 'ad lunch yet," Ben drawled in his suddenly annoying French accent.

"I mean _this_," Angela corrected, waving her hand emphatically in the open space between them. "I'm done with _us_."

"Oh," he replied with a slight frown. "D'accord."

"_D'accord_?" Angela repeated incredulously. "All you have to say is _okay_?"

Angela continued to stare only for a minute longer while Ben shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "What more do you want from me?"

Angela turned slowly and walked away from Ben, not knowing exactly where she was headed, but feeling weight lift from her heart like leaves being picked up and whisked off by the wind with every step she took.


	8. I Celebrate The Day

**A/N:** I wrote this last Christmas but never posted it. Hope you'll enjoy the sweetness. Just a little peek into Jacob and Bella's first Christmas as a married couple.

**********All copyrighted and trademarked items mentioned herein are the property of their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

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**I Celebrate The Day

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Bella and Jacob collapsed onto the sofa, completely exhausted after having entertained a revolving door of Christmas guests for the previous two weeks. They hadn't had one moment to themselves, which was very distressing to both of them, since this was their first Christmas as Mr. and Mrs. Black.

"Finally," Jacob sighed, "I thought they'd never leave."

Jacob pulled Bella close to him and kissed the top of her hair, loving how she smelled like cinnamon and sun and home.

"At least it went off without major disaster," Bella replied, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"Well… except for the sweet potato that's still stuck to the kitchen ceiling," he chuckled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she sing-songed innocently.

They sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the warm blanket of happiness that began to envelop them as they realized that they were finally alone again.

"Hey, what's that?" Bella asked suddenly, sitting up. "One last gift?"

She disentangled herself from Jacob and started to rummage between the torn bits of wrapping paper that remained beneath the Christmas tree.

Jacob frowned. "Are you sure? I didn't notice anything?"

Bella stood and turned slowly, hiding something behind her back. She bit her lip in that uniquely Bella way that made his heart swell with warmth and adoration.

She produced a bow from behind her back and held it in front of her. "It seems we've been blessed with a little Christmas miracle."

Jacob examined at her for a moment, not fully understanding her words until he realized that she was holding the bow over her stomach.

He jumped up and rushed to her, placing his hands on her belly in wonder. "There's a little you in here?"

She nodded excitedly, her grin stretching across her face in a magical way he'd never seen before. "Or a little you."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her from the ground, twirling her around until she was squealing in delight. He placed her back on her feet and cupped her blushing cheeks in his warm hands. She saw absolute joy and awe reflected in his eyes.

He placed a reverent kiss on her lips and rested his forehead against hers. "So, next Christmas…" he trailed off questioningly.

"We'll be a family of three."


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